Interlude
by Caer O'Laine
Summary: Life of a criminal in the City isn't easy especially with a new sheriff and mechanical toys of Order of the Mechanists. In such a moment can you turn down a generous offer of a mysterious woman, especially when nothing is as it seems?
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

_Wind is blowing, there is raining,  
Gallows to the wind complaining,  
If you aren't fast enough  
You will hang there, little rogue!_

A count of children from Wayside

The sound vibrated, as it was reflected by the high roof, which even the powerful floodlights couldn't lit. He wiped out the sweat from his forehead and frowned when his fingers touched the fresh wound caused by a fall that occurred the day before yesterday. He had much luck as the stone cut only the skin, leaving the bones intact. Anyway, he had enough of this job. The Mechanists paid well but it was hard earned money: not some shallow earthworks but breaking through the solid rock. Had he known earlier about it, he wouldn't have volunteered even if they had given him a treasure. Well, one treasure he could consider. The rumor had it that somewhere in the vicinity captain Markham, ringleader of pirates fifty years prior had his hideout. Maybe there was something in there that could lead to his treasure?

He was working almost automatically like one of those huge machines, in the same spans of time rising and lowering a pike. A noise of the air-hammers working right beside him drowned everything, including his thoughts. It was stuffy.

'…everything's going to crash!'

He felt that someone grabbed his arm but before he managed to turn back, a similarly dressed workman was several paces away and was pointing at something that he couldn't see. Behind him he saw a running group of diggers and a few Mechanists who were showing the people a way out.

'Run away! Everything is going…!'

The force of the explosion threw him few steps back and loud bang almost broke his ear-drums. At one moment white dust veiled the view, covering everything and bursting into the lungs. The sound of falling stones seemed to last endlessly, as if the whole mountain had been falling on him. Suddenly something heavy hit him in the head and the man fell into the soft darkness.

He was woken up by a pulsating headache. His ears still tingled when he was looking around and saw something, which a moment ago was an enormous cave and what now, because of the pile of stones in the former passage, shrank to a size of a big room. He got up and ensured that he was in one piece. There was a white cloud of dust still floating under the roof, but the reflector, which unbelievably survived the explosion, lighted up the darkness, creating a bright contrail in the air.

He approached the pile of rocks, which was blocking the entrance, and started to throw away stones, in an attempt to make a hole big enough for him to pass through, but all he made was another fall of rocks.

'Anybody there?'

Silence.

The man hopelessly looked around his prison. He didn't want to die that way – everything was better than being buried alive. He promised himself that, if he gets out of here, he will stop stealing from the foreman, he'll find a decent job and will take care of his sick mother. Now, as to finding this way out…

In the place, where the pile of rocks was touching the wall, a fog seemed to float. Surprised, he went there and felt a frail breeze on his face. Without consideration, he began to throw away stones, though sharp edges were cutting his fingers and the dust was pressing in his eyes. The feeling of salty maritime air grew stronger and was mixed with something else, which he could not identify. Just a few more stones and… With the force of impetus he flied through the hole he had made and landed on the other side. The unidentified scent was stronger here. He noticed two bodies, lying on the ground ten feet away, lightened by a reflector. There wasn't much left on the corpses…

The man frantically jumped off to find himself as far as possible from the dreadful view. It wasn't easy, because of the measure of cave, which was even smaller than the previous one. After a while however, when he calmed down, curiosity won.

There was no doubt they were dead. But their death must have occurred long time ago: dried skin closely wrapped the bones, while the clothes, which he could imagine on a basis of what was left, were somewhat strange. He wanted to check, if they had some purses or something of value, by now completely useless for them. But stories about the dead that raised when a man approached them – usually considered made up tales, which were supposed to frighten the children – here seemed more real. He didn't want to check their falsity.

He walked to the other end of the small room, keeping a safe distance and with his gaze fixed on the bodies. There were a few chests standing near the wall, as well as poorly made table with a few stools on it and something, which he managed to identify as a sunbursting device. On the wall he spotted a few handles for torches. Piled on the ground were pikes, shovels and folded canvas – unmistakable signs that the place could have been a storehouse once. In the corner he saw a small pit filled with water.

The chests were empty, except the hay, which protected the easily breakable things, but behind one of them he found a few ropes with little anchors and a piece of linen which turned out to be a pirate flag.

So it was true: Scar once again looked at the corpses and he felt the growing willingness to check them closely. What happened that those two had stayed down here instead of sailing away with theirs comrades? Had they been guarding something? Or maybe they were to bury something on the island and then return to theirs comrades, but they argued over the loot. It was that moment when he spotted a bag, laying by their side, its colour almost the same as the dust in the cave. Now he couldn't resist the temptation.

At a closer look the bodies didn't seem so well preserved. He noticed with disgust that little remained from the faces: empty eye sockets were looking with reproach at the roof and the wrinkled skin around the mouth revealed yellow grinning teeth. The rest of the body was protected by the cloth, through which – whatever it was – couldn't bite, although it managed to bite out a few small holes. Both men had been armed with knives.

There were also signs of teeth on the bag and its handle was torn off as if pirates were fighting for it. Step by step he approached it and as soon as he could touch it with his fingers, he caught it and immediately backed off for a safe distance. Inside he found only a book.

It looked exactly like – according to him – scriptures of pirates should look like. To be honest, he hadn't seen many books in his life, however, the drawing of a ship with two crossed swords beneath undoubtedly indicated that the book belonged to the pirates. Enormous lock that bound its covers prevented him from opening it. Scar frowned: it must've been something valuable but to check it he had to reveal his secret to someone who could read. And – of course – share the loot. He was surprised that nobody had found unlucky pirates earlier. Some wrongly placed explosives probably isolated this cave and sealed them forever here, under the island. The recent Mechanists works opened the grotto, because the pit he had previously spotted must've been made recently, because there wasn't any salt on the rocks yet and the air inside was still dry.

The man stood up from the stool. Whatever was the content of the mysterious book, it had to wait until he gets to the surface. He wrapped the book in the piece of canvas and approached the water pit. Now it was just the case of finding the exit.

The water was waving, so it had to have some connection with the sea. He only hoped that the opening would be big enough for him to swim through. The only thing he should do then was swim to the surface, where he hoped to encounter some boat. Didn't thinking twice, he checked if the book was protected and he dived in the cold water.

x x x

As usually the vision ended abruptly, not leaving the time to pass mildly into the reality. Red-haired woman slowly opened her eyes, when a man, who was standing behind her, laid his hand on her shoulder.

'Tell us. Tell us what you have seen.'

x x x

The interior of the Crippled Burrick Pub was dusty, dark and noisy – it was yet the only place in the South Quarter which was opened late at night, against the strict rules written in the Book of Stone enforced with severity by the Hammerites. But since some unintelligible riots, in which the Order was seriously decimated, Hammers stopped coming around, which immediately resulted in the increase of the landlord's income.

Pub was also the place where – by the pint of a dark strong ale – someone could make more or less legal businesses or charge somebody with a job not necessarily abiding by the law. City Watch, which entirely took over the duty of patrolling streets and keeping the order within the city walls, knew well what was going on there, but every time when they got to know about some illegal activity, before they got there, there wasn't any trail of the authors of the commotion.

This evening there weren't any musicians in the pub, but the guests were having a good time, who knows if not making more noise than if there was playing loud music. In the middle some people were playing darts and there the atmosphere was thickening with every score of a high amaranth-dressed man, all because of his opponent – a bulky man with a huge knife by his belt, who was definitely loosing. The Amaranth, completely deaf to mumbles and gasps of the thug, was still aiming with the same precision. He seemed unaware of the fact that after each throw the knife was pulled out a little more than before. Spectators gathered around them were rousing to fight.

In a corner, by the table near the counter, a group of men in the identical uniforms was arguing fiercely, often pointing at the pile of coins – copper, silver and a few golden – and a few pieces of paper written with columns of numbers. Some drunken guards from the City Watch by the next table started singing for the tenth time the same obscene song, forgetting that they had already done it nine times before.

'Let go off me!' One of the waitresses, a beautiful girl, raised her hand with a mug to strike a toothless old man, who had managed to catch her in her waist. Her move was successful only in half: the old man let her go but the contents of the mug gushed towards a lonely man who was sitting by the next table. The speed of his reaction surprised her: before the dark stream reached him, the man ducked and ale floated with picturesque damp patch on the wall, just a few inches from his head.

The girl lowered her hands with which she was covering her mouth and a grimace on her face suggested both fear of the reaction of the man or relief that nothing wrong happened.

'I'm so terribly sorry', she stuttered at last, quickly wiping little drops of ale which got to the table and trying to excuse herself. 'It's all his fault, he gray-haired is but still about young girls thinks. He should at home stay and children fairy-tales tell, not here ale guzzle and at maidens gaze. I didn't want to put you at risk, sire, but there are so many people that you don't look where everybody sits. Hopefully nothing wrong happened. But in order that you aren't irritated, sire, let me bring you one mug on a house.' She didn't give him the time for reaction, turned around and walked between the tables to get to the counter. It was always better to have one customer more than less and the price of one mug of ale was made up with the next one.

The man didn't say a word when she was putting the mug in front of him, he just nodded slightly. In the twilight she could hardly see his face: although handsome, it was a little strange but she was familiar with it in some way. A moment later she knew: it was him who was said to have revenged himself on the Hammerites for having his eye gouged out and killed almost everyone of the Order. She glanced at him from the counter but she saw only his dark silhouette. She shivered. One beer given for free wasn't a high price for not having to talk to the man again – who knows what could cross his mind. Why Builder allowed such people to walk the earth!

The man returned to the observation of the room. He wasn't worried about an ambush, although… who could know. However there were some rules even in this demimonde, people of the new sheriff were successful with persecuting all criminal activity. And one has to make a living, especially if this would mean to get rid off competition. Anyway, taking part in the recent events, which convulsed the City – though very few knew about it – he had had to disappear for a while. Now he also tried to avoid drawing anybody's attention, especially because many of the people in the pub knew him all too well. He came here only to overhear what people were talking about and whether the case of the Hammerite Order quieted down enough for him to return to his job.

He automatically recorded faces of entering guests. They were mostly workers employed in some digging under the Markham's Isle but he also spotted some faces he was familiar with. By the table in a corner he noticed Ramirez' men who became somewhat cheerless after their boss had been arrested and put in the Shoalsgate station and his guild had fallen apart. Now they had to carry about themselves or join a competitive guild, which they didn't like as he could guess from pretty loud and violent conversation. The times were hard – there were few clients who for illegally acquired goods were ready to risk a closer meeting with severe and efficient jurisdiction. Many fences also ended up in little cells. However the best, who had a good cover, weren't disturbed in their activity. So was Bram Gervaisius, a collector of works of art and rare objects, whose associate has just shut the door behind him and asked the landlord to bring him 'the usual stuff' to the table he occupied.

The next person, who entered the pub after him, suddenly stopped as if he wasn't sure, whether he really wanted to go in. The man also spotted that the newcomer's long travel cloak was a little different from the ones used in the City. Large hood covered his face in shadow, but the traveler soon touched it to pull it down. It was a woman. It was hard not to notice her: strangers hardly ever got to the South Quarter, usually staying in more residential Old Quarter, women were a rare view in this pub. Her fiery red hair was braided on the back of her neck. But except the man nobody seemed to pay any attention to her.

Suddenly the air seemed to thicken and for a moment time seemed to pass more slowly. The woman stood firmly, as if rooted to the ground, while at the same moment the door behind her opened surprisingly slowly and the next person came in, bumping into motionless woman.

Time abruptly returned to its normal flow and the man shook his head – what the hell was it?

It turned out the woman knew very well where she came: it took only a while before she found who she was looking for. Surprisingly, it wasn't a date with a fence or even a lover, she sat by the table occupied by a workman who slowly sipped his ale. The workman looked as if he had already experienced a traumatic meeting with the City Watch, which resulted in a lobothomy: a wide scar on his forehead was probably visible even in darkness.

Scar seemed to be shocked by the appearance of the woman. His amazement grew as Red-haired spoke and then it turned to distrust and hardly hidden hostility. But it all faded as if by magic when the woman pulled out a big leather purse. Scar smiled, which was quite a horrible view, and said a few words. The woman rose to her feet and after shaking his hand she headed to the exit.

Strange. What an ordinary workman had to offer that could be paid with a mint of money coming from the outside? And who was this mysterious Red-haired who, despite her evident advantages, nobody noticed? The man finished his ale at one gulp and threw his last gold coin on the table. He left in the same moment when the thug attacked Amaranth, to the joy of all spectators.


	2. Child in the mist

**CHILD IN THE MIST**

A time of trial is coming. Scriptures say clearly about it. Only few  
of us will survive to cultivate knowledge of our ancestors. But we  
are not going to let ourachievements fall into the wrong hands.  
Fate cannot be omnipotent.

New Year Scripture, vol. XIII, page 58

**Day third.**_ Still not a trace. I begin to doubt if he really exists. A gossip appeared last year  
about one noble who robbed the wealthy to give to the poor, now in the same way somebody  
made up a perfect thief. Nobody has seen him but everybody's certain that he exists and lives  
well. One of the frequent visitors in the tavern has even shown me a place in a tenement house  
in the south part of the city where he presumably lives but for two days when I've been  
watching it, nobody appeared. I even managed to talk to a landlord of this house but he  
has never heard of a person of such name. I guess somebody's been making great fun of me._

**Day fourth.** _I have had enough. I've seen through all the documents I could get in the town  
hall and Hammerites' library. I'm certain that they hadn't shown me everything but I doubt  
that invisible thief would be so important to them that they would prevent me from any  
mention about him. Has he robbed the Hammerites' temple:)__ In the meantime, it's the  
second evening when a minstrel in the tavern is singing about him and his unbelievable  
actions. This time he exaggerated: my thief of genius is said to take part in events which  
resulted in destroying the Trickster. I wonder how much money did he get for it :)._

**Day fifth.** _I think I've got something. I've met a man in the tavern who affirmed that half  
a year ago in the City there had been some riots and that strange creatures had appeared,  
defeated eventually by the Hammers and the City Watch. Strange, but nobody seemed to  
remember about this important event. Obviously, ordinary riots must've grown in his  
imagination to a rank of an event almost mythical. I started to suspect that the man  
was an amateur of ale sold here but I found one mention about that event in the City's  
chronicle and something about… Keepers whom – as I could guess – nobody knew  
anything about. My work is not easy because of the fire during the riots, which had  
burned northern part of the City with a town hall. I don't have to add that all books  
and manuscripts that had been written before that magical date were burned as well.  
Most people are willing to talk with me but those who might be of some help, look at  
me distrustfully and walk away without a word. Actually, I can't blame them – I should've  
started my search from the Downwinders. But how the hell should I get there?_

_xxx _

'I told you, get out!' Loud voices disturbed me in my notes. I looked up. Little, maybe ten-years-old girl in a dress, which definitely remembered better days, was awkwardly lifting herself up from the floor. A fatty man stood above her, probably unhappy that somebody disturbed him in his dinner. A landlord was already approaching the pair from the counter.

'Please sir, I'm hungry!' Like a real lady, she smoothed her dress and made an unhappy face. But her eyes widened with sudden fear when landlord's giant hand gripped her lean arm and pulled her to the exit.

'How many times do I have to tell you not to disturb my guests?'

The girl hadn't got a chance in a fight with the enormous man but somehow she managed to break loose. But she put too much force into it, which threw her right to my table, turning over my mug and spilling ale.

'I'm very sorry, my lady.' The landlord was about to strike the girl with his cloth and she gave me a pleading glance.

'It's alright.' I rose to my feet, restraining his hand. Fortunately the ale spilt over the table, sparing the sheets of paper. 'I'm sure she'll find the way out, won't you?' I bent to see her face and she zealously shook her head. 'Just bring me another mug.'

The man bowed with respect and went to the counter – at least he should be grateful for all the money I left in his cash desk. The girl smiled at me and turned to the door. I watched her for a while when she was walking away. Weird, she didn't make the most of my goodness and didn't ask for money, now she was moving in an odd way, as if she'd been carrying something heavy under her arm. I looked at the table and suddenly everything was clear – she didn't come here to beg.

Before the girl managed to get to the door, I made a short gesture with my hand. Nobody noticed anything and the girl tumbled down spilling my notes over the floor. She turned immediately, trying to get up but, to her surprise, she couldn't; she also didn't know why nobody had noticed her fall. I slowly walked to her and pointed at the sheets of paper.

'I suppose it's mine.'

She made a sad grimace again but this time she didn't pretend.

'Please!' She whispered. 'I—'

I bent over to collect my notes and helped her stand up. Then I pushed her outside, on the street.

Fresh air of the chilly evening was a pleasant change after sultry interior of the pub. It was growing dusky and lanterns on the streets were already lighted, as well as the candles in the windows of the houses.

I drew the girl into the shadows to avoid drawing attention. She didn't even wait for any sign from me but she didn't try to run away either.

'Please! He will kill me, if I don't bring it to him.' She said very tearfully but also very seriously.

'Who will kill you?'

'Hugo.' She sniffed. 'He said—'

'Who is Hugo?'

'He is my protector.'

'Does he know anybody from the Downwinders' Guild?'

'From the Downwinders?' She gave me a surprised look. I thought she was too young to know about such things but she only shrugged. 'I guess so. He knows everybody.'

I sighed. This Hugo was probably some small fry who set a task for another small fry, even smaller than he was, maybe to train her or because he didn't want to draw attention himself. But for now I didn't have any other possibility to contact the Guild. I straightened up.

'Tell… Hugo that I will be pleased to meet him. I'd prefer no witnesses.'

'But—'

'I promise you shall not be harmed.' I looked at her to see that she watched me with astonishment. Her eyes were unbelievably blue. 'Go now.' I pushed her slightly and waited until she disappeared in the crowd. Then I went back to the pub.

___x x x_

Big book turned to me and opened on the page with a five-pointed star written in a circle. There was no pedestal for it to be placed on, the book was simply floating in the air. There was nothing but the book. I had no idea where I was but it must have been outside, as I saw stars above me, with the Ophiuchus constellation directly in the zenith. Everything else was veiled in darkness and only the book was glowing with a strange light.

I slowly approached it and touched its pages. The book hissed as if it was a living creature and escaped my touch. Its leaves rustled and it opened on the other page. This page I knew all too well. Refined curves, which decorated the quotation, didn't change a bit and weird writing didn't become more understandable than it had been previously. But strangely I knew what was written there. I understood the words but still I couldn't get the meaning.

'You play with the fate.' I didn't notice her until she was about six feet from me. The book floated to her exposing its leaves to her hand and I could swear I heard a murmur as she touched it. As usual she was wearing a bright dress and the light that was shining behind her made me blink. As usual – I couldn't see her face.

'You should know that whatever what you think about yourself, you're not omnipotent.' Was there a scent of mockery in her voice? 'And, like everyone else, you bear the consequences of your actions.'

'I thought I can make it much simpler and—' I heard my own unsure and silent voice. Hey, this was not how it was supposed to be! I didn't want to say that!

'You thought!' It was probably the first time I managed to throw her out of her balance. 'Since now there has been nothing in your actions that would indicate such process. Your ignorance will destroy you.'

'But—'

'If you hadn't gone to this pub, it would have been sufficient just to take this log', she said sharply. 'Now the innocent man will die. He'll die because of you.'

'Because of his greed.' At last I managed to control the overwhelming fear of this white-clothed person. I raised my head but still her face was hidden in dazzling brightness.

'No', her voice was impatient as if she had to explain an obvious thing. 'His path was different. You've changed it. And you've changed also yours.'

She pointed at the book, which suddenly appeared before me. It opened on the same page but the letters of quotation was changing in front of my eyes like falling pieces of domino, creating a new sentence.

'You cannot carelessly change the future.' I was frozen with the tone of her voice and with the awareness of what would happen in a moment. The light began to fade.

'Don't go!' I couldn't make a step. 'Don't leave me!'

She took no notice of my scream but from somewhere I heard a frail voice:

'Elements. Remember about the Elements.'

Elements? What the hell…? But well then, if they don't want to talk to me, I will find another way. I gathered the energy and sent a stream. Damn, I've never been good at this but if it could help…

The stream returned hundred times increased, lighting fireworks in my head and causing an explosion of pain. I staggered backwards, unable to regain balance. I was falling.

___x x x_

I sat on my bed, breathing violently. The cold night air stunned me for a moment. Candle was burning on a stool, where I left it; steady flame as a silent evidence that it didn't take much time since I had fallen asleep. A cloak was still lying on a chair with a travel bag and mice took to the bits of fruits, which had been left on a table. Through the rectangular holes in a shutter I saw a ray of moonlight and a moment later I heard shouts of the Watch near the city walls.

I combed hair with my fingers. It was the same dream, which has haunted me for five nights since the first day I had come to the City. This time it included some new elements but still it was mainly about me reading words of a prophecy. The prophecy destined for me alone, which meaning I could not understand. And what had the Elements to do with it?

Angrily I threw away the blanket and walked irritated around the room. For the first time, however, I tried to attack someone, who was hiding in the darkness and – as I could suppose – I wasn't successful. Also for the first time I… perished? Did it mean I was close? Too close?

My thoughts were hindered by a silent grating at the door. This time it wasn't mice.

'Lady?' I heard a weak voice and at once I recognized the owner of the blue eyes. 'Hugo is ready to meet you now.'

I immediately grabbed my coat and, after having hidden my notes under a loose board on the floor, I put out the candle and opened the door.

'Good. I could use a walk.'

___x x x_

The City had changed since my last visit here. Almost all the trees were gone, replaced by new factories that produced smoke, which constantly polluted industrialized quarters. People responsible for this, the Mechanists, were a new sect, established as an independent fraction of the Hammerite Order. The common townsmen were discontent. What I heard was that nothing changed for the better, at least for them. The higher standards of living were affordable for the nobility and the richer merchants alone, while the commoners experienced only air pollution and greater unemployment, as they had been replaced on their working places by the mechanical facilities and devices of the new sect. The most discontent were the Hammerites, who treated the Mechanists' detachment as heresy and in fact I couldn't blame them for it. Their importance and position, which a year ago allowed them to control almost the entire City and enforce their law on the community, whether the community liked it or not, now rapidly decreased, giving the priority to the Mechanists.

Life wasn't easy also because of the new sheriff, Gorman Truart, who – to be honest – quickly brought peace to the City and successfully limited the activities of the illegal guilds. But in his obeying the letter of the law he moved as far as to arrest everybody who found himself in the wrong place in the wrong time. The life did not look easy and it was even harder than it looked.

___x x x_

The girl knew many shortcuts and took the lead without hesitation. Few times we managed to avoid the approaching patrol and some mellowed guys, who were right away taken up by the City Watch. Finally, in some more deserted part of the City, she couldn't resist asking.

'How did you know I would be alright? Hugo didn't even shout at me. Do you know the future?'

Damned, all I needed was a nosy kid. I grimaced.

'Sometimes I have those feelings.'

'Hugo always shouts on me when I'm doing something wrong. But now he was even glad.'

Sure, I would be glad if a pray came to me voluntarily. You did not need to waste time and means to get information.

Little hand pulled my coat.

'Are you a fairy?'

I stopped, astonished.

'What?'

'Well, there, in a pub,' She lowered her head to avoid my gaze. 'It wasn't my fault I'd stumbled.' Damned, maybe I should start being more careful. I knew children were sensitive to the Elements but I didn't know they felt it that much. 'And you helped me.'

'Because I had an interest in it.' I moved along leaving her with her mouth dropped. 'I wouldn't count on my kindness in the future. I do absolutely nothing for a mere charity.'

After a while the girl caught up with me. She was silent and gloomy now. Hopefully she didn't like me any more. Of course, I was wrong.

'My mum once told me the fairies are good and help children.'

Oh no, that was more than I could bear. I turned to her and the girl, surprised with my move, almost bump into me.

'I want to make this clear. I'm not fairy and I hate children. Am I clear?' Four inches from my face the girl nodded and I straightened up and crossed my arms. 'I would be grateful if you stopped asking about such nonsense. Just lead.'

'These aren't any—'

'They would hear us in the other end of the city.' Gosh, I wondered if she would ever stop talking. I felt like silencing her the other way but it wouldn't be wise to squander Elements.

'That's not true.' The girl flared up and blew out her cheeks. 'There isn't anybody anyway.' And with a countenance of an owner she pointed at the passage to the backyard of the one of tenement houses with a huge grille, where a hooded person moved from. 'We're here.'

___x x x_

Heavy, wooden door shut behind me without any noise. Hugo, about 17-years-old stripling, who was showing me the way in, suddenly disappeared and left me in a drawing room, on a first floor of a tenement-house. The room was empty but the fireplace, which lightened the room, indicated that there must've been somebody here a while ago.

I pulled down my hood and walked to the fireplace. A colorful rug rustled under my feet. At least thirty merchants' heads looked down at me from the ceiling. Glassy slabs, that was hanging from a chandelier, gave a faint sound when moved by a sudden breeze.

It couldn't have been the Downwinders' headquarters. They couldn't have been so unreasonable to uncover themselves so much by leading me there. The tenement-house must've been a place where some more legal businesses took place and it must've been a representative place for them. The attire suggested that it belonged to a wealthy merchant, or rather collector. I noticed some items, that couldn't have possibly been bought, like the beautifully adorned little box which – I could swear – only recently was a reliquary in the chapel of the Hammerites' Temple or eggshell vases, that were conveyed from Cyric only for ritual purposes.

I turned around and saw a figure in the corner of the room, not lightened by the flame of the fireplace. I didn't know if he had been standing there for a while or has just entered via some secret entrance. He stepped closer and I noticed he was a short thickset and a little plump man. He gave me a curious look as he passed me on his way to a massive desk located under one of the windows. He pulled open one of its drawers and took out a thick book but he didn't sit down. His bald head glowed when he raised his head to look at me.

'So, you're looking for Garrett.' To my surprise his voice was pleasant and his long fingers touched the paper gently. He didn't even bother to conceal the fact that he'd ordered someone to spy on me. I also didn't keep my knowledge to myself but, unlike him, I had a good memory.

'Yes.'

'Can you explain your reasons, miss—'

'—Ryen.' I walked to the table and laid my hands on it. He wasn't altruistic, the same way I wasn't altruistic. He just collected scraps of information. 'This is a business between me and Mr. Garrett.'

'Oh, how mysterious.' He presented a faint smile and waved a hand over one of the armchairs next to the fireplace, offering a seat. 'But you've started your search from a wrong place: you should've come here at the very beginning.' He made himself comfortable and the fire lightened his dress: an ordinary doublet of an ordinary merchant. In that dress nobody paid him more attention than he needed. 'In the Hammerites' library you will find no valuable piece of information. But I must say I am impressed: they don't let the ordinary folks in.'

I decided not to mention an attempt of stealing my notes. He wouldn't admit to it anyway.

'I have acquaintances.'

He probably didn't expect such an answer; he couldn't help expressing his astonishment.

'Interesting.'

Dark shape, which just a moment ago appeared by the man's armchair, now jumped on his lap and the fire lightened its black fur. The cat looked at me with its green eyes and hissed. Didn't like me very much, I suppose. 'But you're not from the City, are you?'

I smiled.

'So what? Anyway, coming back to—' He knew a lot about me already.

'You see,' he scratched the cat behind its ears. It closed the eyes and murmured with contentment. 'We are looking for him as well.'

That was too much to bear. It wasn't enough for them to complicate matters, they tried to made me believe in such nonsense.

'You can't even find your man!'

The man looked at me with reservation and probably at this point all respect he had for me vanished.

'He isn't "our man". He isn't a member of the guild.'

'I can hardly believe that.' I said but I already knew that the man was telling the truth.

'He is an "independent" and recently… he's been owing us something. But this thief is not easy to find. Especially when he doesn't want to be found.'

I raised my eyebrow but – taught by experience – said nothing. I should've known more about this legendary thief. Damn, I'd like to know anything.

'I suggest a deal.' He bent in his armchair to look closely at my face as if he'd tried to read something from my eyes. 'You need information and I want to know where Mr Garrett lives. I am ready to provide you with some info about him and I'll try to make him hear about your search. Of course, I can't assure you that he will contact you but sooner or later he will run out of money and will be forced to look for some work. All I want in return is your… cooperation.'

The cat on man's lap stretched at its full length and jumped down on the floor. I watched it till it disappeared in a shadow somewhere next to the door.

'I didn't expect such a trust.' He couldn't have actually been helping me entirely disinterestedly. There was a catch somewhere, that's for sure. 'What makes you think I will keep my promise?'

The man stood up and walked to the desk. The fire brightened and threw a shadow on the man's face, which made him look a little ghastly.

'Breaking our agreement? No, I do not even consider such possibility.' He took out a few sheets of paper from a thick book. In spite of the poor light I was able to recognize an adorned initial on the first page. Furious, I stood up. 'I'm sure you wouldn't want the Hammerites to know about your occupation.' His voice wasn't pleasant at all. 'If I'm forced, I will use it, although I would hate to do that.'

Certainly, using me was a more profitable alternative. I clenched my fists, shaking in anger.

'You'd better find him soon. Do we have a deal?'

Apparently, I didn't have a choice. I ignored his stretched hand and nodded.

'Deal.'


	3. Challenge

**CHALLENGE**

**And when he got to the edge of the sacred wood, his way blocked an old man with a long white beard.**  
'**What are you looking here for?'**  
'**A shelter. Isn't it****a sanctuary for those who seek safety?'**  
'**It is. But only a Guardian can stay here.'**  
'**What do I need to do to become one?'**  
'**Kill me.'**

_**-- Tamara Yaskanis, Pagans' legends and sayings, vol. I, page 218**_

**Day sixth.**_So far Reuben keeps the terms of the agreement – now every self-respecting thief  
knows my name and what I'm doing in the City. I'm not sure, if this fact is known to the person  
I'm looking for, but – as I was told – those were the 'official channels' for sending information.  
I will wait a while until he contacts me and if not – I'll do it my own way._

_x x x_

Note:

**AGE**?  
**WHEN DID HE START:** TWO YEARS AGO  
**WHAT DID HE DO EARLIER:** ?  
**WHERE DOES HE COME FROM:** ?  
**FENCE:** CUTTY (AT LEAST UNTIL HE ENDED UP LOCKED IN CRAGSCLEFT)  
**OBSERVATIONS:** INDEPENDENT, DOESN'T BELONG TO ANY OF THE CITY'S GUILDS.  
GETS THE HIGHEST PRIZE, AS HE DOESN'T HAVE TO SHARE THE LOOT WITH A WARDEN  
AND HE CHOOSES HIS TARGETS BY HIMSELF, BUT HE CAN'T COUNT ON HELP, IF  
CAUGHT AND LIVES IN PERMANENT FEAR OF BETRAYAL. WIDE BRANCH OF CONTACTS  
**ACHIEVEMENTS:** DIFFERENT BUT VALUABLE ENOUGH TO LIE LOW FOR SOME TIME:  
LORD BAFFORD'S SCEPTER, PROBABLY HORN OF QUINTUS, VALUABLES OF RAMIREZ  
(ALTHOUGH THE RUMOR HAS IT HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO ACTUALLY ROBBED HIM),  
CONSTANTINE'S SWORD

- VERTE -

NOBODY'S SEEN HIM SINCE SIX MONTHS. SOME PEOPLE CLAIM HE'S LYING SOMEWHERE  
IN THE BACKSTREET, BECAUSE OF THE NEW LAW: FIRST YOU DRAW YOUR SWORD AND  
ASK QUESTIONS LATER. NEITHER DOES ANYBODY TAKE CRIMINALS TO CRAGSCLEFT  
ANYMORE – EXECUTIONS ARE CARRIED OUT ON PLACE.

HE IS SAID TO LIVE NEAR THE MARKET OF THE SOUTH QUARTER.

_x x x_

___**Day eighth.**__I suppose the Hammerites aren't happy with my presence in their library. So far  
they don't suspect anything but I guess I shouldn't ask them for the permission for using their  
books for the third time. Today they have watched me even closer than previously. However,  
in the evening I managed to get to the bookcase with books about the history of the Order.  
I didn't have time to leaf through all of them but I found a chronicle with events that occurred  
in the last fifty years._

_____Fifty years ago there was a war between the son of the Baron, legitimate successor to the throne,  
whose father had died in meantime, and powerful worshippers of the Builder. All in all, young  
Baron started to eliminate the Hammerites' echelons and the brethren lower in ranks were  
mercilessly hunted and killed by the City Guard, faithful servants of Baron. Finally, when  
survivors took their refuge in the newly built cathedral, Baron's uncle, zealous worshipper  
of the Builder, came to the rescue. He saved the brethren, defeated his nephew and ascended  
the throne. The Hammerites, after this event, were looking for a way to regain their former  
power and influence. That was the reason they came across the Eye, a magical gem, which  
was rumored to have been the instrument of the Trickster. As it might have been expected,  
the Hammers couldn't control it. The Eye raised those brethren who had died in the battle  
for the cathedral and who hadn't been buried in the sacred grounds. The undead walked  
the streets of the City, invulnerable to the swords and hammers of the brethren. Finally  
the Hammerites, with aid of the Keepers, forced them back to the grounds of the cathedral.  
They were unable to eradicate the undead completely, so a wall was built around this part  
of the City and the cathedral was sealed with four Talismans. But this situation didn't last  
long, because—_

_____For Elementals' sake! Half a year ago the Talisman of Air vanished from the Temple of  
Hammerites. A novice who shortly before that joined the Order, also disappeared at the  
same time. Few days later a hell was raised: the cathedral was opened and there was  
nothing that could stop the undead and apparitions of brethren who died fifty years earlier.  
They took over the area inside the barricade and later walked into the streets of the City.  
The Eye vanished, which started even more tragic events, because—_

_____In the last moment I managed to put away the book and move to the place where I was  
allowed to be, when one of the brethren turned me out of the library. Damn, I must return  
here later!_

I closed my notebook and rubbed my eyes – it was late and I was sitting here definitely for too long. The tavern was empty, somebody snored leaning over the table, candle extinguished itself and its wax made an abstract excrescence over the bottle. I slowly stood up stretching my stiffed muscles and picking up my notes scattered over the table. Landlord scowled but he brightened up, when I added an extra coin to the payment. I'm sure that one day my heart of gold will put me in trouble.

The night was cold and dark and the lamp-posts on a street cast its light on cobbles, creating puddles of light in a pool of darkness. Pale moon moved west long ago, hiding over the roofs of the higher buildings. Somewhere in the distance patrol footsteps were heard in a regular intervals and a shutter of a window high above me was shut with a thud.

I wrapped my cloak tighter about me and moved along pulling hood over my head. I knew well I tempted fate – empty streets, shadow and a person without any company must have been a strong temptation, but Reuben promised that during my search I wouldn't be troubled by members of his guild. That obviously didn't guarantee that other guilds or 'independent' would leave me in peace, but, frankly speaking, I counted on it. I was prepared for any eventuality and wouldn't decline an extra source of information. But since the day I came to the City nobody accosted me, except the City Watch, but thankfully they didn't know who I really was. They were too young to remember and unless I give myself away I was pretty safe.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a movement just beside me. All of a sudden, something turned me round and drew into shadows, a hand clutched my arm. My training was too good though, and I reacted automatically, almost absent-mindedly. In one moment the energy, which I had gathered a second ago, burst towards the attacker, throwing him away, right in the brightly lit part of the street. He staggered and the light of the lamp-post he found himself under shone over his figure.

I saw a man in his late twenties, with a slightly pale face. The eyes under dark eyebrows watched me with more astonishment than was my joy that eventually something started happening. But before any of us could make a move, we heard a regular sound of footsteps on a bridge over the stream. Patrol. They must've spotted us. But I underestimated the robber's abilities: in one moment he backed into the shadows and froze and the men didn't even notice him.

'What are you doing here?' I felt uneasy when I saw that one of the guards gripped the hilt of his sword. I was sure he wouldn't hesitate to use his weapon.

'I'm glad to meet you, gentlemen. I seem to have lost my way. The streets are dark and there's not a single soul that would help a lady in distress.' I smiled faintly.

'Nobody is allowed to walk the streets at night', said the second guard, advancing and giving me a suspicious look. Only then did I notice that it was a woman. However, her eyes were cold and she held the crossbow quite purposefully, aiming it right at my stomach.

I didn't want to take an unnecessary risk. I knew I could make a gesture before any of them could react and the scent of Tatiana's flower would do the rest. I saw the understanding in the man's eyes as soon as I raised my hand. They had a good training, but I was faster. In one moment his eyes became empty, half-raised hand was lowered and the sword hit the cobbles with a loud clang. The woman involuntarily lowered her crossbow and flagged as if all the air was let out of her.

'Come, Yora', he didn't even turn his head to the woman and stiffly moved along with his gaze unnaturally fixed in one point. Without a word the woman went after him and I bent to collect my notes spilled all over the street.

I turned to see them disappearing round the corner. The Elemental should break after a while, but they won't remember the last several minutes, as if they'd never seen me. The less people knew about my abilities, the better.

I moved along, but slowly enough to encourage the robber to go after me. He didn't want to rob me or – rather – it wasn't his main goal: otherwise he would've tried to knock me down or sneak and take what he wanted. No – he wanted to talk and I wished to give him that opportunity.

Now he was far more careful, as he remained in shadows, but I hadn't got time for playing hide and seek.

'What do you want from me?'

The thief, after a while of hesitation, gave up his hiding and caught up with me and I let him walk by my side. He ignored my question.

'It is not wise of you to show off like that. A few more tricks and the City will know. You won't be safe any more: the Hammerites still don't approve the activity of followers of Elementals.'

This time it was me who couldn't conceal astonishment. Involuntarily I stopped to look at him but, anticipating my move, he pulled his hood over his face and the only thing I saw were his thin lips.

'How do you know about the Elementals? It's not the kind of knowledge you get by the mugging'.

He stopped only for a while, then he moved along, as we were leading a friendly chat. He didn't answer.

'Besides, as far as I know, they don't approve of your occupation as well'. His lips screwed with a smile. 'It won't be problem to make you forget me'.

'Maybe. But you can always encounter somebody with whom it won't be so easy'. For a moment we were walking in silence. 'Why are you looking for me?'

I knew that it couldn't be anybody else. For a legendary thief he made an excellent impression. Having seen the way he avoided the City Watch, I realized that he was indeed good. Now he wasn't making much noise either and seemed more to glide than to walk. Even his cloak didn't make the faintest sound.

'My employer would like to hire someone with your skills.'

'What does he want me for?'

'He's anxious about some log-book and his present owner who must be... silenced'.

The man suddenly stopped and looked at me. I didn't see his face, still hidden in the shadow of the hood, but his whole figure showed astonishment. And anger.

'I am not an assassin,' he said coldly. 'Tell your employer that I'm not interested'. He moved along, not even waiting for me.

'Even if the price is high?' I couldn't believe he turned down my offer so quickly, especially – or so I was told – that the time was tough and such generous offers didn't turn up frequently.

He didn't look back, nor did he stop, but said loud enough for me to understand his words.

'Don't look for me any more'.

Surprised, I watched him making his way down the dark street. At least he made an effort to meet me and I could swear that it wasn't out of pure curiosity. So why didn't he take the offer? And why— ?

The thief came to the junction and vanished round the corner. I wouldn't learn anything if I just stood there. The perspective of waiting for another meeting and another search didn't make me happy either. Without a second thought I run after him.

I reached the corner just for the moment to see him vanishing in a vaulted passage between two houses. He'd speeded up and the flame of a torch near the entrance flickered and extinguished itself, the street went dark. I hurried my pace and the sound of my footsteps echoed off the stone vault. According to my calculation he should be about twenty feet in front of me. The street went straight, without any bends or junctions and was sufficiently illuminated. I shouldn't have any problems with—

The street was empty. Surprised I stopped. The lamp-post over my head was buzzing monotonously and the torch, which was flickering calmly at the end of a street indicated, that nobody had gone that way. He couldn't run, because I'd hear his steps. Disoriented I turned to the mouth of a dark passage – he couldn't hide himself there either, because it was too narrow for two people. There was only the square left, where he might have got to before I came out of the passage. I hadn't much choice, so I headed that way.

Apart from two dogs who were fighting over a bone and barking loudly, the square was empty too. Damn, if he headed that way, he must've chosen one of the streets leading out of the square. Now I couldn't find out which one it was. Furious, I cursed and wanted to return to my rented apartment but suddenly I heard a sound of footsteps. I immediately clung to the wall, hiding from the source of sound: one meeting with the City Watch was enough for one evening.

Three men wore highly recognizable blue uniforms and helmets. They weren't hurrying and slowly turned to the mouth of an alley, which was exactly opposite to the one I was standing in. I didn't want to risk running into them on their way back, especially that I didn't know their route. I turned around to quietly move back... and run into another patrol of three guards.

It's impossible—, I panicked and then I recognized the leader. His face was as inscrutable as usual.

He moved a step closer, as if he wanted to be sure he would catch my hand, if I decided to run. He said with a tone used to give orders:

'Sheriff wants to talk to you'.

_____x x x_

'Have you seen him?' Flame of the lamp flickered when the man leaned towards me.

'Yes.' I leaned back on my chair. The scent of perfumed water, which was becoming very popular in the City, tickled my nose. He must've been about to go somewhere, because I spotted an adorned doublet under his cloak, his hair was skillfully set and moustache precisely cut. He slowly walked behind my chair with hands behind his back.

'And—?'

'Nothing. He did not accept the offer.' I heard that the man turned around and placed his hand on the back of my chair. I shivered.

'The worse for him. Do you know where he lives?'

I closed my eyes. Till then I was hoping against hope that he wouldn't ask me that question. Finally I answered.

'No. I lost him.'

'Well, well, that wasn't in the agreement', tone of his voice didn't change but I heard a hidden threat. 'I'm sure I gave you enough time.'

Suddenly I sprang to my feet wishing to find myself as far from him as possible.

'What the hell are you thinking?! You haven't caught him, but you assume that I will achieve what the whole army of your thugs couldn't!'

The man was inspecting his nails unconcernedly, ignoring my blaze of anger.

'You control the Element of air', he said with a total indifference. 'Is it so hard to read one's thoughts?'

'I can't read one's thoughts.'

For the first time he looked at me attentively. He still thought he knew all about me.

'Well then', he walked closer and gripped my chin. I turned my head. 'I'm giving you one more week. You have seven days to lure him into a trap, doesn't matter how. After that you'll end up in the same place you should've ended up at the beginning. And believe me, Cragscleft is a lovely place in comparison to this.

He waited for some reaction, but I didn't give him any, so, after one last glance, he went out of the room. Against my expectations, he didn't slam the door. After a while I heard an irregular sound of steps of a few people, while he was leaving an old warehouse with his escort.

I slowly moved to the centre of the room – my hands were still shaking when I combed hair with my fingers. I still remembered the pain he caused me in his 'inquiry room', as he called it. Damn! If it weren't for the Scriptures, I would certainly talk to him a different way, but now...

I caught a glimpse of the move by the next warehouse, as if a single shadow left the wall of night, but when I came closer to the window, everything was as calm as a moment before. It must've been a hallucination.

I sighed and reached for my cloak and, after throwing it over my back, I finally left the building.


	4. A bit of a mystery

**A BIT OF A MYSTERY**

**_After all I'm begging you to keep the information above to yourself.  
You know well, reverence, how dangerous can be knowledge in  
wrong hands, especially, if those are the hands of a woman. It is  
important to maintain an extreme caution, to keep things from  
going too far. Once before we had succeeded in avoiding the  
similar danger, so we should be able to draw conclusions._**

_**-- Archmage Morgan to Venerable Rakel, private correspondence**_

The library wasn't closely watched, obviously not being the primary target of the city thieves. There was only one guard at the entrance but, as every Hammerite I've met, he was taking his duty quite seriously and he didn't seem tired at all. He was mumbling his prayers, turned to the farther side of the corridor. There was a torch next to the door that created a bright pool of light, so I couldn't get pass him without being seen. Not unless…

An invisible beam of energy hit the hammer that lay on a small table at the end of the corridor, knocking it on the floor. The noise rang out in the passage, deafening the guard's words.

'Show thyself and speak!' The man advanced toward the source of the sound, raising his heavy hammer. I'd rather not think what would have happened, if he had turned back before I disappeared inside the door.

I decided to wait until the guard entered the darker area of the passage. His footsteps echoed loudly, as he slowly paced the corridor, searching for whatever had caused the noise. Just two more steps…

I quickly reached the door, hoping it wouldn't be locked. It was. Damn it! I glanced at the guard – he was still marching down the corridor, but it won't be long when he'll be coming back. Another beam of energy hit the lock and I heard the metal cracking under the huge pressure. The door opened with a soft creak.

'Strange,' the guard's words reached me, as I disappeared in the darkness inside. 'How could it have fallen down?'

The lamp was standing there exactly where I had seen it earlier. I took it and walked to the bookcases. I found it – the one which contained the book I needed – despite the surround­ing darkness. Stained-glass windows projected a faint moonlight on the floor, but the shelves themselves, endless at the first sight, were cloaked in darkness. The tables, situated parallel to the shelvings, marked the successive sections of the library.

I took a turn at one of the tables, immediately overwhelmed by hundreds of books of history. Only then I raised the wick, as I needed to take a closer look on the titles. The lamp sizzled slightly and lighted the area. It glittered on the side of the nearby bookcase and cast a shadow on the opposite wall. It seemed as if the shadow moved and I was certain it wasn't just the flickering of the flame. But when I raised my head everything appeared normal and still, however I still felt a touch of nervousness. Behind the door I heard a muffled voice of the guard, the sound from behind the other entrance I recognized as the steady footsteps of a patrol. The library itself was quiet and there was nothing to disturb the silence.

I returned to my studies and took from the shelf a book I had read before. I lay it on the table and began to read.

**Day 2****nd**** of the month of Lamat, 3114 years after the death of the Prophet Jeremyn  
**_The enemy did not give us a chance to react, quickly taking over the surrounding buildings  
and laying siege on the Temple. The Trickster can bend to his will even the mindless  
creatures that form his savage army. Alas, the scouts we sent yesterday confirmed  
what we all feared, the fatal truth: the Cathedral stood open and the Eye has been  
stolen. Unable to accomplish this by himself, the Woodsie Lord was forced to use  
a mortal, probably making some deceitful pact with the thief. Whatever was his  
reward, this man succeeded in finding the four hidden keys and opening the cursed  
place. We still hold against the monsters, but only a few of us remained, driven  
down to the dungeons. The enemy has taken over every inch of the Temple and,  
for some malicious purpose, managed to abduct the High Priest. Builder, protect us!_

**Day 3****rd**** of the month of Lamat, 3114 years after the death of the Prophet Jeremyn  
**_It seems that the Trickster does not devote himself to his former allies. After his mercenary,  
a thief called Garrett, had served his purpose, the Woodsie Lord deprived him of the Eye,  
as well as of his own eye. The Trickster had intended to kill him, but the thief somehow  
managed to escape and reach the Temple to ask us for advice. Let his last eye be damned  
for his blasphemous doings! But, as the Prophet teaches, every man, even the most pitiful  
worm, is a tool in the Builder's hands and unknown are his ways. That is why the Grand  
Council regarded it useful that the thief's anger be directed against the common enemy  
and his skills be used to save the High Priest. Therefore, when the necessary help has been given..._

A faint, muffled sound. I sharply raised my head from the pages of the book: the library seemed quiet as before. But when I glanced where I thought I heard something, I saw the shadow flickered, fading the next second without a trace. All motionless. No, I saw it again, three tables away now. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to be taken aback. I raised a hand, but the shadow reappeared in a different place and the lamp suddenly went off. I had no time to make a gesture: I was hit in a temple, I staggered and fell, stunned. Moments later I felt that my arms are being twisted on the back and tied. Next I could feel was a cold steel tickling my throat. Then I heard the whisper:

'You are trying to track me down, you work for the sheriff and you are one of the Mages. Give me a single reason not to kill you now and here.'

The dagger driving harder on my skin, a warm trickle on the neck. Hell, he wasn't joking at all!

'The Metal Age!' I croaked wildly. I had no idea, if it'll ring a bell, but there was no better choice. There couldn't be: this one was real.

The pressure eased off and in a second I felt that the man stood up, the dagger returning to its holster with a slight hiss.

'Nonsense. Just another story made up by the Hammers.'

I raised my brow, astonished by his response. He knew. Now I really started to believe that he was something more than a talented thief. Who the hell was he?!

I yanked, trying to turn, but my tied hands effectively prevented such maneuvers. My ears hummed, white spots appeared before my eyes.

'You know about the prophecy, the logbook must not get into the hands of the Mechanists.'

The man turned toward me, a dark figure towering above my head.

'It has already had. Why is it so special? Why you care so much about it? You don't mean the treasure, do you?' A clear sarcasm in his voice.

I bit my tongue and restrained myself from criticizing his lack of faith. Offending the man was not the best option in my present situation. I took a deep breath and answered with as much calm as I could master.

'The treasure is not of our concern. The logbook contains something much greater than you imagine. Nobody can be allowed to see it.'

'Your offer wasn't generous enough. It appears that your... target decided that Karras will pay more handsomely for the item.' I heard his footsteps, as he approached the table with the chronicle still opened where I'd read it. 'Will he too have to be... silenced?' I heard a thud as he closed the book.

'He's not in town for a couple of days. Only you can get, where I cannot.' The rope was strong and I almost cut off the blood flow, struggling to free my hands. How surprised I was when under my fingers I felt a thin shape in a hidden pocket on the inside of my sleeve. How come he hadn't noticed a knife? 'Besides, I don't understand why they care that much about their safety.'

'You can ask them about it.' The chronicle hit the floor with a loud crash, when both corridors filled the clatter of running feet. I think I also heard something inside, but the noise the guards made deafened everything else.

'In the library!' The voices shouted outside, but seconds later the door opened and the floorboards creaked under the heavy ironed boots of the guards. 'He won't escape this time!'

'Lanterns!', I heard from somewhere behind me, the sound of receding steps ensured me one of the brethren went to get them. Luckily for me, they didn't want to use the torches, maybe afraid that the books, gathered over centuries, could be damaged during the fight with an intruder. Thanks to this I got few precious minutes more.

I desperately twisted my arm, almost breaking it, but my fingers just brushed the handle of the knife. Good God! They find me here, I'm as good as dead! They won't even ask for an explanation, because there was nothing that would account for my presence here. I hated to think what they'd ask in the torture chamber.

The brethren were checking the room slowly but thoroughly. As I listened, the creaking grew; I realized that one of the guards must be headed my way.

'You can't hide forever.'

I froze – the voice was just above me, heavy boots stopped a few steps away. I clutched my hands.

'I'm sure someone's in here.' I heard once more and floorboard creaked again. No, I'd rather drop dead before they get me alive. I focused all my strength, ready to kick the guard as soon as he stoops. But instead of seeing his face, I only heard another creak and the footsteps began to recede.

For a while I just lied motionless, still unable to believe he didn't find me. Then I remembered about the knife. After another struggle with my bonds, the handle moved for an inch. I tried to ignore the pain in the wrist. Once the get hold of the handle, the blade will poke out and...

The rope snapped and I felt a surge of blood flowing back through my wrists. The knife clattered on the board, but there was nobody near to hear it. I kneeled to look around, reaching for the blade.

The three guards were still searching the library – I could see the dark figures, with hammers ready to strike, moving slowly in the far side of the room. I had no idea, if my extraordinary thief was still here and – honestly – I didn't give a damn. If I could I'd be happy to see how he's making his last mistake in this library.

The door I used to enter the chamber were opened now, illuminated by the torch outside. If I could only sneak past the brethren – from there on it would be easy. I assumed that the rest of the compound was unaware of the intruder's presence in the library.

A sudden flash of light made me turn back. From where I stood I could make out the table, with a burning lamp and an open book. The second flash and a dark shape fell from the shadows into the sphere of dim light, cast by the lamp. A second figure appeared next to it: unlike the other brethren the man wasn't wearing an armor and his red tabard was embroidered with silver. He was unarmed, so he must have been one of the echelons, maybe even... The man raised his head, showing his face: it was the High Priest.

The man bent over the fallen figure, but immediately straightened up, his face a mixture of surprise and anger. He murmured:

'It's you. I warned you to stay away from this place. Your last doing will not atone for all the insults and problems you caused us in the past.' The High Priest turned to the brethren and shouted. 'Guards!'

Heavy footsteps rumbled near the wall with the stained-glass windows, so I retreated deeper into the safety of the shadows. Curse the wretched thief! If he's caught by the Hammerites, it will be the end of my mission. I will never be able to retrieve the logbook by myself, I obviously lacked the necessary skills and experience. Despite my dislike for the man, I knew too well I needed him. Besides, if I rescue him, he'll owe me a favor. I just hoped that he will prove a man enough to remember that, to know the price of honor. Maybe then he will be more willing to accept my offer.

The gesture produced an energy missile that came buzzing out of my hand. It hit the first guard with such force that it sent him flying across the room. He landed heavily several feet away, releasing the hammer, apparently unable to get up again. The others reacted more quickly than I thought.

'Murder!'

In an instant they came to a halt, waiting for an enemy to jump on them and at the same time stared, trying to penetrate the darkness around. The High Priest shifted his attention and that was the dark shape needed to rise and vanish in the shadows between the bookcases. The priest, seeing that the thief has disappeared, moved to join the brethren, sparks of fire jumping between his fingers.

Damn! I knew the priests of the Order mastered the Fire Elemental, at least partially. Of course, it was a far cry from the abilities of my fellow Mages, but I didn't want to test my skills in a battle against the High Priest. I also did not intend to risk my life for my talented thief. I needed to think something up, and better do it quick.

'Builder, guide me!'

The brethren wandered in the blackness, in that distance they weren't a threat, but the High Priest was a real danger. He seemed to sense something, as he advanced toward the place of my hiding. Ha walked slowly, as if uncertain of his decision. He hasn't attacked yet, but he kept coming. I couldn't use the Elemental without giving away my position, and I didn't notice anything I could heave to disrupt his attention. There was always a spell of oblivion, but I was quite reluctant to use it, unless there was no other choice – I suspected his skills and religious practices helped him resist magic attacks. A few more steps and he'll see me! There was one more option. Damned! I was definitely to weak for this, but my time was getting shorter with every second. I concentrated and raised both hands.

_x x x_

The thief walked nimbly, his stare fixed at the door. He was almost there, when the door suddenly opened and two brethren rushed inside. He backed down, but it was too late – the guards were headed exactly toward him. He reached for the dagger, but they were faster: within a moment the two figures turned up in front of him, but instead of attacking, they... went through him, as if he wasn't there. The air waved slightly and the feeling sent a shiver down his neck.

'Brethren! Here!'

They didn't look like apparitions he saw in the Bonehoard, nor were they like the haunts of the haunted Cathedral. They seemed more... material. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when the strange apparitions turned and run back from the room, drawing the rest of the guards after them. The High Priest hesitated, but only for a moment. He retreated, then marched to the bookcases opposite the wall. Whatever it was, the thief concluded, he did not discover anything, because he soon swore badly. The thief saw what the High Priest couldn't – how the flame of the torch at the entrance flickered. The man shook his head in a genuine surprise – he did not expect the Mage to be that good.


	5. Revenge

**REVENGE**

_**Crime has spread like importunate vermin and as such  
it should be treated. Its extermination must begin from  
the most common and smallest vice. It's the only way  
we can strike with awe that will assure peace. None  
of the activities that do not follow the letter of the law  
can be tolerated.**_

**_-- Gorman Truart, inaugurate speech by filling the pos__ition of sheriff_**

'Please, keep in mind,' a short man dressed in blue robe, according to the order's regulations, abruptly stopped in front of me to look at my face. It wasn't easy, because he was merely five feet tall, 'that you're not allowed to the two lowest floors of the tower. I also ask you to regard hours of prayers: I remind you, that you are on the territory of the order and I would be grateful if you don't forget about it. You are here only because of the personal request of Friend Coltus who assured me that you won't break any of the regulations.' Father Jacow wasn't pleased about my presence in Angelwatch, quite new building erected by the Mechanists and a manifestation of still rising authority of the order. If he could, he would excommunicate me only for my presence in the tower and his discontent that he was the one in charge to present me the rules of moving in there, just radiated from him. I gave him a reassuring smile.

'I'll do my best to behave according to the regulations.'

Father Jacow looked at me from beneath his bushy eyebrows with no trust at all, as if he thought I made fun of him.

'Good.' He finally turned around to get to the lift allocated in the corner of the lobby and lead me to the rooms for guests.

Lobby was huge, almost three floors high, with double row of banks in front of something that in ordinary chapels would be an altar. However, the lobby didn't have any religious emblems and the only thing that could be considered part of the doctrine was a big portrait of Karras hanging on a wall opposite the entrance. The lobby must have served as a place of secular meetings, rather than of religious services. The chapel was supposedly somewhere else.

The man closed safety-rails behind me and hit the button of the lift with an air of a man aware of his mission. The lift swiftly begun to move up but halfway to the second floor I heard some noise, raised voices and somebody's hurried footsteps. A commotion upstairs wasn't a normal thing: there was a man lying on the floor of a long corridor, with a puddle of blood growing under him. The second person in a robe stained with blood was just lifted by two Mechanists, while a man in a long violet tunic was bending over a strange machinery on the left side of the corridor. Suddenly father Jacow stopped the lift.

'Please, stay here,' he gave me brief look, quickly opened the rails and went closer to the few Mechanists who gathered around the person in the violet robe.

'What happened here?'

'A watcher took brother Dominic for an intruder and attacked him,' one of the brethren who was holding the injured man looked hatefully at the Violet Robe. 'Before brother Mason managed to switch it off, brother Dominic had died and brother Mason had been badly hurt too.'

'Get him to the ambulatory.' Brother Mason was hanging like a rag doll in the arms of brethren holding him. 'Quickly!'

Disregarding the instructions father Jacow gave me, I left the lift and came closer, making way for the two brethren who were carrying the injured man. The thing responsible for the mess, which Violet Robe was leaning over, was a strangely looking machine in the shape of a human head but twice as big. It was located on a pedestal resembling a tripod. There was another face hanging over it, fixed to the ceiling. Instead of one eye it had a light-blue lens that was gleaming slightly and there was a little lamp embedded in the machine's 'neck'.

'I said they weren't ready yet!' the Violet Robe abruptly turned to father Jacow and I felt an unpleasant squeeze in my stomach when I saw his face: it was Friend Coltus. 'I don't understand why you insisted on installing them. I warned that they had to be tested.'

'There is no need to raise your voice, friend,' father Jacow raised his hand. 'Everybody knows it wasn't your fault.'

'I will not tolerate slip-ups. More people could've died there!' He pointed at the Mechanists who were standing around him. Then he met my gaze. Recognition flashed in his eyes. 'What is she doing here?'

I instantly moved my hand, seemingly to comb back my hair, and at the same time I put my fingers to a gesture. A faint smell of Tatiana's flowers spread in the air. Damn, if he sensed my intentions...

'Your words hurt me, friend. Do you not remember our last conversation and your assurance that you would support my request that I be permitted in the Angelwatch?'

The man's head drooped and his gaze became dull.

'Right. Now I remember,' he answered unnaturally slowly. The spell could not fully affect him, since Friend Coltus was not an ordinary guard and his strong will was strengthened by religious service, although he did not have enough strength to resist it entirely. I was only afraid that someone could just now...

'Then you also remember why she is in here,' father Jacow looked at me, as if he wanted to find a confirmation or denial written on my face but obviously he found nothing. He turned to Coltus. 'I hope that you will show miss Ryen the workshops, as she is interested in modern mechanics.'

The man didn't answer, his gaze focused on one point, as if he was deep in thoughts. Finally he moved along the corridor and spoke, vaguely pointing the machines with his hand.

'I'll send someone to dismantle it.'

'Friend Coltus,' Jacow cried but the man didn't respond, still walking down the corridor and vanishing around the corner.

For a long moment Father was watching the place where Coltus had disappeared. His face wore a blank expression, as if the sudden change in behaviour of the chief inventor did not surprise him a bit. After a while he nodded to the Mechanists to clean up the mess. Only then he gave me a brief look and turned to the lift.

'Follow me, please. Your room is on the fourth floor.'

_x x x_

**Day 11th.**_ I found Cedric. He must be happy because he was allocated  
in one of the rooms prepared for the most important guests on the 5th  
floor and he's __been__ given free-of-charge living. __So far he __has been  
__waiting for Karras to return, who was so __anxious__ to meet him that  
he had sent his people to the tavern to fetch Cedric. __Cedric didn't  
have __a __reason to turn him down, especially when he smelled __a __nice  
profit in it._

_I'm not sure if he still has the logbook with him. But the Mechanists  
are treating him well but also __keep a constant eye on him__. My  
possibilities to check up on him are limited: he surely remembers  
me from the tavern and I don't want to push my luck. The signs  
are clear that my __thief-of-genius__ will join me but __they __don't specify  
when – there isn't much time left._

_So far all seems quiet and my camouflage works. Even Friend Coltus  
doesn't remember our first meeting but I still don't know what Father  
Jacow thinks about it. I must act quickly – rumour has it Karras is  
to return in a day or two. I shouldn't be there __when he comes back__._

_x x x _

Note:

'**LAYOUT OF FLOORS:** ALL ALMOST IDENTICAL EXCEPT GROUND FLOOR  
WITH LOBBY AND FIRST FLOOR WHERE THE CHAPEL AND THE STOREROOMS  
SHOULD BE LOCATED

**PRESENT INHABITANTS:** SOME ARISTOCRATS FROM BOHN WHO ARE  
TO MAKE SOME BUSINESS WITH THE MECHANISTS, A FEW CLERKS FROM  
THE CITY

**GUARDS:** PATROL ALL CORRIDORS, THREE PER FLOOR ON AVERAGE,  
TWO STATIONARY GUARDS IN FRONT OF KARRAS' STUDY (5TH FLOOR)

**CEDRIC'S ESCORT:** TWO NOVICES, THEY CHANGE EVERY DAY

**ARMAMENT:** LIKE ALL MECHANISTS

**BUILDER'S CHILDREN:** ONE IN FRONT OF KARRAS' STUDY, ONE – NOT  
DISMANTLED YET – ON THE 2ND FLOOR; THERE MAY BE MORE THAN THAT.  
KEEP EXTREME CAUTION!

**OBSERVATIONS:** KEY GUARDIAN IS FRIEND VILNIA. SHE IS DANGEROUS  
AND KNOWS THE BASICS OF ELEMENTAL MAGIC;

SO FAR I HAVEN'T FOUND ANY OTHER ENTRANCES THAN THE FRONTAL ONE,  
BUT THERE MUST BE AN ENGINEER'S LADDER SOMEWHERE NEAR THE LIFT

...'

While I was busy making notes, I suddenly heard violent hammering at the door, but the uninvited guests did not wait for my answer. The door opened and two Mechanists burst into the room. From behind their backs emerged Father Jacow.

'By the order of High Council you are arrested.'

Getting in wasn't hard – it was enough to find the manhole on the east side of the building that led to the engine room. The man smiled under his breath – it seemed that the Mechanists were so sure about their fame as unmatched constructors that they weren't worried about burglars and didn't take pains to secure the 'back entrance' properly. There was a rumour in the City that the lower levels of the Anglewatch were teeming with strange mechanical beasts but the thief doubted this was true. And even if it was, they couldn't be more intelligent than rat-beasts who he encountered six months ago in the dominion of the Woodsie Lord. The only thing he should be afraid of were humans.

The man wasn't satisfied: he didn't succeed in getting any useful information about the number of Mechanists in the tower, nor did he manage to obtain an adequate map. The only thing he found out were scattered information he got from workers who erected the tower about what he might encounter inside and his own experience with the Order of the Hammer – the Mechanists couldn't be better than them.

The manhole opened with a silent creak and from beneath it white steam rose. Even if somebody was watching that entrance, he could not hear man's steps because of the noise the generators were making. But the room underneath was empty and low corridor led to the little storeroom.

The location of the study of Karras was the only thing the thief was certain of. High priest of the Mechanists himself came back to the City a moment before the thief's entrance to the tower. By the time Garrett got there, Karras should know the content of the logbook and maybe would hide it in a _secure place_ to which the thief could get. One way or another, he didn't have much choice but to head to the fifth floor.

The door was open but almost immediately he came across a guard who was patrolling the lower corridor. From the opposite room, where the Mechanist went, he heard a monotonous sound, as if metal hitting against stone. Near the door to the left there was an elevator shaft but the man did not consider it the safest way to get upstairs. There had to be another entrance apart from the stairs on the opposite side of the building. It would be ideal, if— After a while he spotted exactly what he was looking for – an engineer's ladder in a small niche just behind the elevator shaft. He managed to slip in there before the guard on patrol came back to the lower corridor.

_x x x_

'Builder shall reward thee', Karras looked exactly like on one of the portraits hanging in various parts of the tower. The only thing that the pictures did not show was his habit, as the elderly high priest dressed in adorned attire and golden helmet walked from one wall of the chapel to the other. 'Our Lord is gracious to those, who—'

'I'd prefer he rewarded me now', Scar cut short. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Mechanists, he just wanted to hold the reward in his hands. And he knew that it shouldn't be small. He figured it out when, back in the tavern, some woman offered him 30 gold pieces for the log of captain Markham. Knowing about it he hoped to get a better bargain.

'Of course', the high priest eventually stopped pacing. An unclosed clasp that bound the covers of the book Karras was holding creaked slightly. 'But let me ask you something, my friend: has anyone been interested in this log?'

The man's face lit up with joy: the high priest of the most influential order in the City addressed him by the highest title a layman could hope for.

'Many people. Especially when they found out about its previous owner.'

'You told them?!' High priest made a sudden move and the man, startled, backed off cautiously.

'I couldn't avoid it. I was looking for a dealer and I had to encourage him in some way. But fortunately', the man smiled significantly, 'I met your Excellency.'

'I fail to see one thing, however', Karras resumed his pacing but now he did it much slower, carefully planning each step, as if he was deeply in thought. 'Please, tell me, why did you want to sell the logbook? Did Markham's treasure was not enough for you?'

Scar smiled under his breath; the conversation was heading exactly how he had planned. Of course, he couldn't assume that the high priest, who had his men in all parts of the City, wouldn't find out about the captain's log and the treasure. Now the only thing he needed to do was convince Karras that he knew much more than he really did.

'As you certainly know, venerable one, the log tells not only about the treasure, but about other things as well. Precious things. I couldn't take them only for myself.'

'Indeed, you are right,' the high priest shook his head, lost in thoughts. 'But was there someone, apart from those who would be typically interested in such things, who wanted to buy it from you?'

Scar hesitated. What was he up to? Why did he crave for this information so much? He did not expect for the conversation to go that way.

'Yes,' he admitted reluctantly. 'A red-haired woman.'

'What did she tell you?'

He didn't care about it before, but as he recalled their meeting, the woman seemed to him a little weird. She could have found out everything she wished to know from the workers but he told about the log to the only person he trusted. He didn't believe that the news would spread so quickly. Besides, she knew too much. Even for a representative of a rich collector, who she said she was.

'Nothing in particular,' he shrugged. 'Her employer wanted to buy it. The treasure would have been mine.'

'Did she tell you anything about the Lost City?'

So that was the reason. A city buried by an unknown cataclysm ages ago. Legend had it, it was ruled by the divine Precursors in possession of advanced technology and science and was a paradise on earth. And being the predecessor of present city, was buried deep underneath it. Personally Scar doubted that there was something more beneath the streets than sewage system, but those who journeyed to seize the legendary treasures of the Lost City were never heard of again. Rumour had it, however, that there was someone who did return. But the woman didn't even mention it, as if she wasn't interested in it.

'No.'

'Reconsider it well,' high priest steepled his fingers and his voice seemed to be squeakier that a moment ago. 'I wouldn't recommend you to protect an unfaithful mage who only waits to bring a disaster upon us!'

That was a warning – it wasn't the kind of knowledge he wanted to possess. He didn't plan on getting entangled into religious games and accusations of heresy.

'Why don't you ask her yourself? She must know something.'

'Well, we asked,' Karras nodded with approbation,'but you see, she didn't want to tell us anything.'

Only then did Scar understand the meaning of the words he had just heard: the woman was there and definitely against her will. If the Mechanists had the power to detain a rich person, what would happen to him, if he didn't give a satisfactory answer to the high priest? He definitely didn't like the way the conversation was going.

'She didn't say anything, venerable. But if it would interest your Excellency, I heard that there is someone who could share information. His name is—'

'I know,' Karras stopped dead as if hit by this sudden thought. 'But enough of this.' Eventually he smiled and came closer to the man. 'The mage shall be righteously punished and you will tell me, how much did she offer you?'

Scar sighed with relief: even if he wouldn't get much, he was still happy that the disturbing conversation was almost over. He knew he shouldn't, but he decided to take the risk.

'Not as much as your Excellency.'

High priest looked at him attentively as if he saw him for the first time.

'Indeed. But first let me show you something, friend.' Karras indicated a room next to the chapel and headed there, gesturing at Scar to follow him. 'My latest work. The Builder himself would be proud of it.'

The room must've been a vestry. Further inside the room he heard a noise as if stone grinding on metal. The sound was growing louder, as if – whatever it was – was getting closer. After a moment the source of the sound appeared and Scar backed off involuntarily. So it was the truth! Metal beasts, that allegedly wandered the lower levels of the Angelwatch, were real. Terrified, the man watched as something that resembled a metal human being stopped and its barrel-like chest with arms and artificial face turned to him.

'Do not be afraid,' the high priest approached the monster from the back, opened a hatch and pushed a small lever. 'Builder's Children are standing on guard of peace and justice, and they know well what must be done to maintain it. They were designed that way.'

Suddenly Scar felt uncomfortable. He thought he knew what kind of peace and justice Karras was talking about and how he wanted to maintain it. In one moment he turned around and started to run, just to get as far from the beast as possible, but he was too slow. From the corner of his eye he spotted the blue lens lighting up and one of its arms ending with a pipe of some sort, aiming at him. Then he heard a bang, something hit him in the back pushing the air out of his lungs and an enormous power pushed him on the floor. But he couldn't feel that any more.

_x x x_

The room seemed empty, with only a few crates piled near one of the walls, but when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the thief spotted a cowering silhouette in a corner. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. Streaks of hair were strewn about her knees, where she was resting her head.

The man approached and was about to touch her arm but the woman must have heard his steps. She raised her head and shielded it with her arms. The thief saw fear in her eyes – an emotion he never thought he'd see on this particular woman. Only then did he notice that her hands were tied.

'It's me,' he whispered.

She did not look surprised to see him, as if she was expecting him. He also noted there was dried blood in the corner of her mouth and that some of her fingers were twisted in strange angles. He involuntarily clenched his hands.

'Cut the rope,' she held out her arms to him, but the man didn't move.

'What do you know that is so important that Karras wants to kill you?'

The woman looked at him surprised, but she almost immediately got impatient. She shook her head.

'There's no time for—'

'They'll be here any minute. I want to know what is going on.'

'Damn you!'

Only then did she really became afraid. He didn't know how much time they got but he would not be used, regardless of the situation. So he waited, nobody suspected him to be here anyway. The woman turned her head.

'There is a note in the logbook detailing the way to Karath-din. If Karras gets there, we will not survive.'

'We?'

'The mages.'

The man paced a few steps.

'If he had wanted to kill you, he would have used the entrance in the City. Unless—'

'How—?' the mage raised her head, visibly astonished. But it didn't last long. 'It was you,' her eyes narrowed. 'You were in the Lost City.'

Man's lips screwed in a smile. What an irony. If it hadn't been for him, the mages still would have sat in their Towers, waiting for the supplies of the elemental crystals from nearby Cyric. Thanks to him they found a gold vein and lost— He stopped, hit by a sudden thought.

'Why did you wish to hire _me _specifically?' He stopped in front of her, trying to look her in the eyes. His boot with a dagger behind the bootleg was within her reach. It was a mistake.

The woman suddenly jumped to her feet and managed to pull the dagger out before the man could react. Her broken fingers could not hold the blade and the mage's face screwed with anger when the man effortlessly stepped over the dagger. He slid the blade into its place and squatted in front of the woman. He should have known the mages would not forgive him the theft of the Talisman that they guarded, especially in a place as secure as the Mage Towers.

'So, is it a revenge then?'

The woman abruptly raised her head, cold fury flickered in her eyes.

'Don't flatter yourself!' she hissed. 'Besides, you got what you bargained for.'

Garrett closed his eyes only to see a switch, sharp as a lancet, speeding towards him. He almost felt the sharp pain in his right eye socket flashing up again. He shook his head to shake off the memories. The mage continued somewhat more calmly.

'I need you. I can't get the log back by myself. Besides,' she shrugged, 'soon Karras will kill everybody who knows about Karath-din. It's only a matter of time before he finds out about you. Why should we not join our efforts?'

Steps reverberated in the corridor and the thief hesitated only for a moment.

'We're square,' he looked her in the eyes, cutting the rope. 'But don't count on my help. I don't intend to save rescue whoever's world.'

He instantly slipped into the shadow near the door. From the corner of his eye he saw that the woman tried to get to her feet and he heard her voice:

'Leave them to me.'

A moment later a torch flame danced on the wall near the entrance and two Mechanists came in, with a bright sphere of light around them. The thief miscalculated: the brethren would definitely be passing too close to the him. It was too late to move back now, though.

The Mechanist closer to the wall did not even notice a figure suddenly materializing in front of him, the torch went off and he saw the floor rushing to meet him. The second guard thrust the torch onto the stone floor and swung his mace on the thief. The weapon did not reach its aim, however, and the thief felt a sudden rush of air that shove the Mechanist a few steps back. He staggered and dropped his weapon. It all happened in a split second and then the thief heard a muffled curse coming from where he left the mage. In the low light of a dying torch he saw the woman grasping at her hand. But before the Mechanist came around, the woman made a complicated gesture and the guard clutched his throat.

It was evident that he was choking. The thief noticed that the Mechanist's feet dangled a few inches over the floor. The air seemed to wave as in a proximity of a red-hot furnace, but it was cold and it was giving the thief a shiver. He could almost see the energy gathered in the room. He watched, fascinated, as the Mechanist desperately tried to loosen something that was crushing his windpipe. The thief concluded that he wouldn't last a minute should he ever stand in the woman's way.

She did not do it to defend herself – he shook his head disappointed when he saw her vengeful gaze. But there was no time for revenge: the Mechanists could show up at any moment, alarmed by the absence of their brethren.

'Ryen!'

The mage did not respond, concentrating entirely on the blue flame that surrounded the Mechanist's throat. Damn her! He will not be discovered and he will certainly not die because of a stupid revenge. Besides, he didn't like to leave a mess.

He approached her and seized her arm, breaking the spell. The Mechanist tumbled down like a sack of potatoes, desperately gasping for breath.

'Leave him,' he said bitterly. 'He's only a tool.'

The woman glanced at him with hatred, not quite understanding why someone would disturb her in the execution.

'There's no time,' he headed for the exit and turned back, irritated, when he saw that the woman wasn't following him. 'Are you going or not?'

The mage shaped her fingers in a strange way and the Mechanist's head jerked and turned around on its own. His neck snapped audibly and the brother collapsed like a rag doll. The thief watched this with disgust.

'Where's Karras?' The woman finally moved, indifferently stepping over the motionless body on the floor. The thief frowned but he answered. He did not really know why he did this.

'On his way to Markham's Isle. To Cetus Amicus.'

Even in the darkness he could clearly see how the mage suddenly went pale.

'Good heavens!'


End file.
